


Untitled Snippet

by mithrel



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Blanket Permission, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-24
Updated: 2009-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:32:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garak meets Kukalaka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled Snippet

Garak buzzed the door to Bashir’s quarters. He didn’t normally see him outside of the Replimat and the Infirmary, but the Doctor had been busy lately and hadn’t picked up the pants he’d wanted hemmed, so Garak had brought them to his quarters.

Bashir opened the door, and looked surprised to see him. “Garak, hello!”

“Good afternoon, Doctor. Since you haven’t had time to stop by my shop lately, I thought I’d bring these by,” he held up the pants as explanation.

“Thanks. Do you want to come in?”

“Certainly.” He stepped over the threshold and looked around curiously. He’d been in Bashir’s quarters once before, years ago, but he hadn’t seen much. As Bashir went into his quarters, something sitting on the desk caught Garak’s eye.

“What is _that?_ ”

Bashir turned round. “What is what?”

“That… _thing_ there.”

Bashir looked where he was pointing, and grinned in embarrassment. “Oh, you mean Kukalaka.”

“Kuka… _what?_ ”

“Kukalaka,” Bashir repeated, looking if possible even more embarrassed.

“And what, exactly, is a ‘Kukalaka’?”

“He’s a teddy bear.”

“A what?”

“A sort of…child’s toy, on Earth. Children often sleep with them, to keep from being afraid of the dark.”

“Ridiculous! Why would children need something like that? There’s nothing to be afraid of in the dark.”

“Don’t Cardassian children have anything…” Bashir interrupted himself, “No, of course they don’t.”

“Naturally not. But why do you have a child’s toy in your quarters, Doctor?”

“He’s mine.” Bashir sounded defensive.

“But why is it _here?_ ”

“He’s mine,” Bashir repeated defiantly.

Garak barely refrained from rolling his eyes. “Yes, we’ve _established_ that but why…”

“Nostalgia? Sentimental value, I don’t know!” Clearly wanting to end the conversation, he added, “I need to put these away.”

Garak wandered over to the desk to get a closer look at the thing. It was obviously very old, patched and frayed, with one eye missing. He had no idea why the Doctor would keep it. “Ridiculous,” he muttered, picking the thing up. It was soft, as he supposed was appropriate for a child’s toy, and small enough to be held comfortably. Why humans gave these insipid things to their children he had no clue. Still…

“Garak?”

He started guiltily and hastily put the thing down. He turned to see Bashir standing in the doorway to his bedroom, looking amused.

“Yes, well, if you need anything else altered, you know where to find me,” he said, and beat a hasty retreat, Bashir’s snickers following him.


End file.
